Fixation
by shipperfey
Summary: “Do you trust me?” “Never.” Spuffy, tag to Dead Things.


**Title: Fixation**  
**Author:** Alice J. Foster

**Summary: **"Do you trust me?" "Never."  
**Character(s)/Pairing(s): **Spike/Buffy  
**Category: **angst, smut  
**Spoilers: **Season 6, Dead Things  
**Warnings: **language, sexual content, adult themes  
**Rating: **NC-17

_Now that you know I'm trapped  
Sense of elation  
You'd never dream of  
Breaking this fixation_

Time is Running Out by Muse

The telltale sound of metal against metal was what made her look up.

"Do you trust me?" The devilish sinful blue eyes were more than an invitation as the handcuffs dangled from one perfectly long finger… the same finger he'd been tracing down her neck, shoulders, and around one rosy nipple just minutes before.

"Never." She was surprised she could say anything at all, with the lump in her throat and the chill that was running down her arms and stomach; that chill that only he could bring. Even as she heard her own voice, her last shred of resistance, she knew it was too late. Her hands had a mind of their own as they moved towards him.

Spike shook his head, "tsk, tsk, Slayer. As much as I would love to take you down here once more, I'm thinking this is one time I really need to have you in my bed."

Buffy tried to hide the shiver that ran through her with his words. Regaining some of her composure, she shrugged, "Maybe your problem is you think too—"

Before she could finish her sentence he had one hand underneath one of her legs and another grabbed her side along with one creamy white breast. He lifted her off the floor, from under some old and possibly pricey tapestry.

No other words could leave her mouth when she was finally pushed face first into the firm mattress that adorned the center of the lower level of Spike's crypt.

The sound of metal against metal was much louder this time, quickly followed by the feel of the cold cuff closing on one of her wrists behind her back. One quick yank on her cuffed arm and she was lying on her back and he was on top of her, holding her captive arm high while reaching for her free arm with his other hand. She quickly realized he was straddling her hips, immobilizing her legs and torso… she could free herself if she wanted--one quick painful push against his crotch would've sent him spiraling back in pain, but before she could give the idea more thought, her free wrist was no longer free and his mouth was on her.

Instead of pushing him away she was pulling him closer.

His tongue battled hers for control; she felt like he was trying to devour her entire being. Her arms hurt from being held too far above her head, and she tried to bend them closer but his hand pushed against the metal links that held both cuffs together, keeping her from being able to find any relief to her discomfort. She pushed against his firm hand once again but he wouldn't budge.

As she continued to thrash beneath him, trying to free her arms, he was continuing his assault on her mouth… soon enough, he moved on to her neck and shoulders. His lips sucked hard, then pulled away so that he was oh-so-close but not touching; Buffy gasped as she felt his cold unnecessary breath blowing against her heated skin, tracing back the patterns his tongue and lips had just made.

She quickly forgot about the cuffs and her stiff arms, her only worry was to keep Spike from stopping whatever he was doing to her. His free hand started feeling up and down her side, tracing her ribs oh so delicately, before reaching up to grasp her left breast in one strong hold. Buffy moaned when his cold breath moved downwards and onto her erect nipple. The position was awkward as she wiggled underneath him, trying to push the hardened nub into Spike's mouth… he kept pulling back, blowing softly and making the skin tighter than she ever thought possible.

The silky skin of his erection was pressing against the inside of her thigh, and Buffy felt it was too long since she'd last had it there-- even if it'd just been a few minutes before. Her legs opened and curled around Spike, the sharp hipbones digging into her inner thigh muscles. She tried to tilt her hip at just the right angle, and when she though she'd found it, he pulled back and away from her.

The hand that had been holding the cuffs high above her head was suddenly gone, along with most of the rest of Spike. She tried to sit up and maintain the contact she'd just lost, but his other insistent hand pushed against the soft skin of her navel, forcing her hips and torso back on the bed.

"Just wait here a second, luv," he said with a tone that made her freeze in place. Something told her that if she waited, it would be worth it-- which meant this was probably her last chance to use whatever was left of her brain that hadn't been overcome with lust, and get the hell out of there…

…but instead, she did as he said and didn't move an inch.

Her entire world seemed to shift; she felt dizzy for a second, before she realized he'd only pushed the bed a couple feet back from its original position. He walked around to where her cuffed wrists were and tugged on her arms roughly until he could secure the handcuffs with shackles that seemed to connect to the dirty floor. He removed his hands from the mess of metals and limbs, and Buffy tried to tug on it but it wouldn't give. She knew she could tug harder or simply twist her body off the bed and into the ground which would give her more leverage if she wanted to escape, expect she didn't really want to escape.

As erotic images of what was to come started to fill her mind, Spike got on her again. His blunt teeth tugged on her bottom lip, biting hard enough that she knew they'd be bruised.

"Got you where I want you, Slayer," his breath tickled her ear, his lips soon after detouring for her ear lobe.

She wanted to feel his chest and back, wanted to run her hands over his strong arms and stomach… wanted to feel the coarse hair of his navel, but she couldn't. She tried to rub herself against him to relieve some of the pressure she was feeling, but every time she'd find any beginning of a release he'd pull back.

They continued this game for what felt like hours but in reality were just minutes, maybe even seconds. Buffy started feeling her sweat build back up; her skin was slick against him wherever they touched.

One of his hands moved under her back until he could grab a handful of hair; he tugged hard on it, until she had to bend her head backwards and give his mouth more room to work on her neck. His other hand was running slowly over the inside of her thighs, moving up and down leisurely and purposively avoiding her center.

The crave for his touch was so strong that Buffy felt the muscles in her thighs twitch; she kept from relaxing in fear of missing the first touch to her center.

Spike felt the tension under his hand and grinned. "Can't wait for my hand to find you, can you? The feeling of my fingers against you-- inside you… you want it, don't you?" Then his voice dropped even more dangerously low. "Do you want it so bad you would beg for it?"

The last ounce of pride in her screamed at him but only a whimper came out of her mouth, followed by the softest "No," ever.

One scarred eyebrow arched in disbelief. "Is that right?"

His touch was suddenly gone; he'd lifted his body enough so that no inch of him was touching her whatsoever. She felt cold and lonely.

"Are you saying you don't need my touch? You don't need my fingers against you, rubbing you in that way only I know how? My mouth on yours… just the right amount of teeth and lips and tongue. Can you look at me right now, pet, and tell me you don't need this as much as you need your next breath?"

His eyes were so intense… she felt like she was going to explode under his gaze. "I…" she started but her voice felt too weak to attempt talking.

"Just as I thought," he replied before his mouth was between her breasts, and the weight of his body was once again on top of her.

He pulled back slightly again and she considered protesting, but then she realized his mouth had moved south and lips were grazing the very top of her left inner thigh. One hand pushed her right leg away, opening her under his gaze and lips. His eyes were on hers but she broke the gaze when he licked his lips, her eyes involuntarily closing in pleasure. The first touch of his lips on her swollen clit felt like an electrical shock; her hips surged from the bed before he pushed her back down. Lips kissed the skin all around her center, then back up to her clit. She pressed against him just as he started stroking deep inside of her with his tongue.

A guttural moan escaped Buffy's mouth before a gasp interrupted it. Her arms still hurt from being stretched but the pain was just adding to her pleasure; she started feeling the waves pulling her further and further into the ocean, leading her to certain drowning. Spike continued to assault her with his mouth, and now his hands were there too. One long finger was pushing into her, followed by a second one, stretching her and stroking her from the inside while his tongue stroked her on the outside.

Her thighs felt like they were burning, the soft skin of his face rubbing against them as his mouth worked on her center. Buffy felt the force pulling her under-- she tried to fight it for a second before succumbing completely, letting the waves wash over her again and again and again…

It felt like her orgasm would never end, with Spike stroking her from inside, outside, inside, outside, over and over and over. When she finally surfaced again she couldn't catch her breath; her skin was tingling all over and her center craved the feel of Spike's erection. He didn't seem eager to fulfill that craving at that very moment, as he seemed content in working her over and over with his mouth and fingers.

The continued work on her over-sensitive bundle of nerves was bordering on painful now and Buffy winced, tried to push him away but he wouldn't give. "Spi—…" a gasp escaped her as another smaller orgasm hit, "Spike, stop, please, st--" she tried again, and was once more interrupted by intense pleasure mixed with slight pain. She knew he had heard her; she knew he was aware of her ultra-sensitivity, yet he continued his assault.

And assault that was making her hurt in all the right places.

Another orgasm hit her, and then and another… she couldn't count them anymore, she couldn't breathe and she couldn't feel anything but his mouth on her, his fingers thrusting deeper and deeper, stroking her firmly and steadily.

"Luv?"

She couldn't respond, too caught up in the multiple waves hitting her from all sides.

"Luv?"

Buffy opened her eyes--strange, she didn't remember closing them.

It took her awhile to get adjusted to the dim light of the crypt, and it took more than usual effort to simply focus on Spike's face. He had the dirtiest grin on his face, his lips still wet with her juices. His tongue licked his lips, and his eyes looked at her as if he had never tasted anything that good before. "Are you ok?" he asked after a few seconds.

"Uh… wh- - what?" She realized all her limbs felt heavy, especially her stiff arms.

"You were gone for a second there, I was getting worried."

She should've known not to let the tiny smirk reach her lips as she realized she'd come close to passing out from the intense pleasure—but it was too late, Spike saw it and he moved with incredible speed to capture her lips.

She could taste herself on his lips, his tongue, everywhere. Buffy moaned into his mouth as she felt his fingers back at her entrance, not penetrating just stroking lightly.

The realization hit her that her ultrasensitive center was about to be stroked once again… she tried to resist as she started to feel the pull again: "Oh god, no.. no, stop it… too much, Spike.. Sto—ohyesgoddon'tstopdon'teverstop," she mumbled nonsensically.

She wanted to stroke his skin, wanted it more than anything. She could smell him, and see him and feel him against her, but she needed to touch him with her hands, to knead the soft-hard skin, feel the bones and muscles underneath, let the cool skin steal some of the fire burning within her.

"Release me, Spike," she managed to say between moans and groans of pleasure. Spike pulled back slightly before shaking his head.

"No deal, Slayer. Told you I have you where I want you."

His head dipped slightly to softly brush against her shoulder. Her eyes caught the tiny trembling of the muscles in his arms as he held himself up above her. She needed to feel them, needed to run her hand over his bellybutton, feel the back of his thighs, grab his firm ass cheeks in her hands; she had to grasp his erection in her fist, pump him for all it was worth, rub the moist tip with her finger, let it coat him before letting her thumb apply the pressure on that spot where his shaft and the head met, the one spot that craved her touch oh so much. "Spike, take them off, I want to touch you, pleasure you… Please, I promise you won't regret it." Apparently she wasn't above begging.

"I know I wouldn't regret it, Buffy," he flashed her a smug smile, "but you don't get it, do you? It's not about my pleasure… it's not about my control. It's about you… it's about making you scream, making you come so hard you'll pass out again, luv."

Oh god, he was serious. Dead serious.

She knew that as she stared into his eyes, as he lifted himself slightly above her so he could reposition himself between her legs. The second it took for the hardness of his erection to touch her felt like forever, but then he was there and with one thrust he was inside her, deeper than she ever thought possible.

He didn't move right away and she squirmed underneath him, trying to get more friction, get some movement, anything.

The emptiness in her as he pulled almost completely out was overwhelming; she groaned in protest, but then he slammed into her again, silencing any further complaints from her. He was even deeper than before, and it took her breath away. She gasped as she tried to get some air back in her lungs; Spike didn't wait as he started some quick deep strokes.

Buffy moved her knees higher up his torso, opening herself further to him, satisfied when she heard his groan at the change of the angle.

He started kissing her jaw, caressing her skin with his lips and tongue; Buffy's senses felt overloaded again.

She whimpered as she felt another orgasm approaching--it came and washed over her, and then another came, and then another, and she didn't know when one was starting and another was ending. Her entire body felt like nothing but nerve endings, all being stimulated by Spike in the most delicious way possible.

She knew the contracting grip of her inner muscles around him was all the warning Spike needed to start letting go. His thrusts became shorter and faster, completely erratic in a hypnotic rhythm. Buffy was still coming, eyes refusing to focus on anything anymore as she moaned and gasped, trying to catch her breath in between waves.

Spike collapsed on her, obviously exhausted. The extra weight did not help her with her breathing, but it was still welcome as she felt the pressure it put on her entire body… it was comforting and firm all over.

Buffy started to sober up, to feel the real ache on her arms. Her wrists would be sore for a couple days, she was certain of it.

Oh well… it was a small price to pay.

The pain became more disconcerting as endorphins started wearing off, but before she could complain, Spike moved and worked on the handcuffs. There was a loud banging sound as metal fell to the ground, and Buffy's arms felt impossibly heavy as she tried to move them.

A soft comforter was pulled over her cooling body as Spike settled next to her, without touching her. She fought the urge to move closer to him; instead she just lay on her back and stared at the crypt ceiling.

Dawn would be home by now; probably waiting for dinner. Willow could of course prepare something, but Buffy knew they'd probably wait for her to eat anyways… they always seemed disappointed when she'd come home late from 'patrol,' too tired to eat.

Buffy needed to get going… her arms protested and so did her legs, exhausted from the over usage in the past… what, 5 hours? 6? She'd lost count. But she knew she needed to get up, leave--regain her conscience and start regretting the past few hours.

She needed to end this, needed to leave for good… that's what she said every time, but she kept coming back.

The need for Spike was stronger than drugs, stronger than Willow's magic – more addictive too… which was why it obviously had to end.

But… until it did, she knew she would keep coming back for her fix--until the end, until their time ran out.

**the end**

_last revision: 04/26/2008_


End file.
